


Overcoming Abstinence

by MuchAdoAboutK



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Gen, One Shot, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 00:24:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3360965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuchAdoAboutK/pseuds/MuchAdoAboutK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After celebrating the end of a play with his fellow cast members a slightly inebriated actor struggles to switch off and relax ... </p><p>A slightly naughty short story inspired by an actor I recently saw on stage. His name is in the tags and if you saw the play you'll recognise the references in the story, but it could be anyone. The lack of tags is down to me not wanting to give anything away because the obvious one would spoil it.</p><p>This is not in any way meant to disparage or disrespect the actor, the play or the performance. I saw no evidence that this actually happened. It is entirely of my own warped imagining and for that I accept full responsibility. It is meant as a bit of gratuitous fun so I hope you enjoy it.</p><p>I usually write under a different name - my real one - but was not comfortable with who might read this if I published it there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overcoming Abstinence

After much swearing and fumbling with the door key, he half stepped over, half fell over the front door step and into the flat he had been renting for the past few months. Tonight the curtain had fallen for the last time on the most wonderful play he had ever had the privilege to perform in and his first alcoholic drink in twelve weeks was taking its toll on his coordination, but man had it tasted good. He could happily take or leave most alcoholic drinks but really good red wine was something he had truly missed. The first glass had slipped down like nectar and after that his fellow cast members had placed one glass after another in front of him and it had all been too easy.

He was going to regret the excess in the morning, he could tell. But celebrating the end of a play that had likely changed his life and his career forever was something he couldn't not do. He had made wonderful new friends and proved many things to himself as well as the wider world, and all of that was cause for celebration. 

He stumbled through the flat shedding his jacket and getting himself a large glass of water and some painkillers to ward off the impending hangover. Water and pills downed he tripped into the bedroom and fell onto the bed in an undignified heap.

After a few minutes of contemplating sleeping in his clothes and boots he managed to turn over. Rather surprisingly the room wasn't spinning and with a few groans and more fumbling he managed to kick off his boots. His trousers proved rather trickier due to the way they clung to his long legs but eventually he managed to lift his hips and rather inelegantly shuffle them down to his ankles together with his underwear. He kicked them off to join his boots in a heap on the floor.

He pulled his t-shirt over his head, growling in frustration as it got caught on the St Christopher hanging around his neck. He managed to tug it free, throw it haphazardly across the room and then lay exhausted on the bed staring at the ceiling. 

It was going to be strange not going to the theatre on Monday. He had got other things coming up very soon but it was hard to believe he'd played this particular part for the last time. He hadn't dared dream it would be so successful. A sellout! He still couldn't comprehend that. 

He shivered in the cool night air and pulled a sheet over his naked body. He should really go to sleep now. He turned on his side, pillowing his face on his hands and closed his eyes.

Five minutes later he opened one eye. His mind was still buzzing, the character he had said goodbye to tonight still living in his head and vying for attention.

It had been a couple of weeks ago he had first felt it, the twitch in his groin when he passionately kissed his colleague on stage. It had almost undone him right there, startling him, and just before they took their curtain calls the actress he had kissed asked him discreetly if he was all right. The next time it happened he had handled it better but was still bewildered. It was hardly an atmosphere conducive to arousal. Surrounded by hundreds of people all staring at you, the last thing you needed was anything obvious down below! 

He had always prided himself on remaining physically unaffected by anything sexual in these situations but night after night of kissing and feeling her tongue toy secretly with his lips was taking its toll. Rather than relieve the tension when he was alone in bed at night he punished himself by ignoring his need. Alcohol wasn't the only thing he had vowed to give up for the duration. What annoyed him most about the whole thing was that the kiss was supposed to be deeply emotional and he spent a large part of the final scene crying genuine tears; arousal seemed horribly out of character. 

He sighed and rubbed his face in an effort to clear his thoughts. At least he could put that one small frustration to the back of his mind now, couldn't he? He shouldn't let it spoil something that had been so wonderful. 

He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. If only he could just switch off and relax. His eyes drifted downwards and he sighed again at the sight of his rather prominent erection providing a tent-like peak in the sheet that covered his body. Maybe ...

Pushing aside any feelings of guilt he slid a hand under the sheet, dragging his palm across his already hard nipples and down towards his groin. As his fist closed tightly around his penis he groaned in pleasure. Twelve weeks of abstinence meant he was so hard it was almost painful. He ran his thumb over the tip gathering the liquid that was already oozing out and then gently spread it over the head and down towards the base. Slowly he started to slide his fist up and down his length, unwilling to go too fast in case it was all over too quickly.

His mind was a whirl of images. Reluctantly he relived the kisses that had so aroused him on stage, allowing his mind to take him into a fantasy that involved him ... no ... his character finally getting the passion he so desired from his lovely wife. 

It was his character's long denied marital pleasures that arched his back as his hand slid tightly back and forth. It was his character's repressed desires that finally erupted forth in a series of grunts and groans as he lost himself in the end of his own self-inflicted chastity. With a long drawn out cry of pleasure he finally spilled himself over his hand and collapsed back onto the bed with an exhausted sigh. 

It took several minutes before his own thoughts struggled back to the forefront of his mind. That was the first time he'd ever pleasured himself in character and if he was honest it was a bit weird. Yes, he leant towards the method style of acting, but this was perhaps taking that a tad too far. Not that he hadn't satisfied his own needs in the process, he had.

With some effort he climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. It had been, he mused as he wet a flannel and wiped it over his body, inevitable. It had been inevitable given how immersed he had become in this play that he would dream in character, and he had. Fantasising was not such a stretch after that, was it? He felt a little guilty that he had pictured his character taking his willing wife over the wooden table on which she kneaded her bread, little billows of flour puffing up around them as they gave in to the pleasures they had long been denied. The actress who played her was his friend and while quite lovely, she did not feature in his own fantasies at all. He wondered how he would manage to look her in the eyes without blushing after tonight as he wasn't sure she would understand the distinction. Not that he had any intention of telling anyone ... that really would be weird.

He fell back into bed as the need to sleep started to seep into his exhausted body. He did feel more relaxed now, his body slack and satiated. Before he drifted off into a thankfully dreamless sleep his final thoughts were of the fading smell of burning herbs, the drying of tears and the quieting of his mind now he had finally given in to his character's desires and his own need. Maybe next time he was on stage he would indulge his own needs a little more often between performances. Abstinence was definitely over-rated.


End file.
